I’m From Florence, SC.

by d.m. newby

Love is so weird. In the beginning, our love was so divine, exciting and full of anticipation – anticipation of the next smile, the next kiss, the next warm embrace. I can recall one evening when my girls and I were sitting in the living room, enjoying a movie. Then we heard an unexpected ramble at the back door. At first, we all were startled by the low ruffling sound. We all became extremely quiet, waiting for the next sound of a physical presence in the air. I got up and peeked through the curtains, trying to locate any ghostly image of life. Then, with an outburst of laughter, you appeared. We all screamed out in laughter, “Kammi” as we laugh out in relief of the very presence of a familiar face. It was exciting moments like this that you brought into my life that made me yearn for more. Yearn for the next second, minute, hour of the aroma of your presence that brought me pleasurable joy into my life. Each second we were apart was like an eternity as I impatiently yearned for the next time our eyes would embrace. One second became minutes, a minute became hours, only our hearts stood still waiting for the hour to arrive when our two bodies would become one.

Love is so weird! Our time spent together has become golden as we became familiar with one another, and I noticed something is slightly different, that makes me feel a little unsure. I never noticed it before, but when you touched me your hands felt quite cold, which causes me to somewhat pull away as you attempt to clench my fragile soul. I noticed your sweet melodious voice that once tickled my ears, now crackles with authority that causes me to tense in despair. Your wishes became demands – a list of expectations that you expected to be fulfilled. “I want my clothes washed.” “I want my food.” “I need sex now.” Your demands seem endless. I remember when you use to glaze into my eyes, that funny feeling I use to get. You know that feeling, that feeling that made me felt like I wanted it. Now, your eyes are so distant that I can barely recall the color of them and that funny feeling I use to feel deep within, well that feeling seems to have lost its way. I found myself pushing you away and distancing myself. You now find more pleasure in making love to your laptop, spending hours and hours on end caressing its keyboard with your every stoke; or laughing and toying with a familiar voice on the other side of your cell phone. I have even noticed that cosmetic swagger you once displayed, now shuffles with many motions of insecurities that I am often confused whether to love you or leave you or give it time to heal. I never knew that so many weaknesses reside within you that I often feel lost, insecure, alone and unsure of whom you are or who we are anymore.

Hmmm, love is so weird that I didn’t realize that it was imperfect and needs to mature. I failed to recognize that love needs time to show itself in full measure before I can define the trueness of what love is. It needs periods to mold itself; occasions to stumble and fall; instances to build up and shut down; points to reenergize and heal.

Love is so weird because I failed to realize that most of all, love needs moments and time to mature and develop.

One Comment:

  1. That makes three stories up here from Florence, S.C. not too bad for a small to medium sized Southern town.

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